Sunday 25 December 2016

After a year

It's been a year. I only came up to to spill out some truth, so I can go back to pretend everything is A-OK, which it is to a certain point.
Can't help but still feel like a criminal.
My wish is that one day we'd sit together and talk like total strangers. Because I can talk to stranger, but I can't to you. It kills me that I cannot speak. I don't know what to say. I would, but I didn't want to say anything wrong. Or if it is just standard or courtesy for you to speak to me. I thought that I had just saved you a whole lot of time. I hate this. Not this. It's great seeing you after a really long time. But I hate the fact that I can't talk freely. Because there are doubts inside of me that you don't really want to talk to me, but you just wanted to be polite. In fear of wanting more, I avoid bumping into you. So you didn't have to talk to me.
All this made me feel that it's time for me to leave again. I am sorry that I may be mad at God for this still. I still think God is good, just sometimes I do not know the definition of good.
And there I fear that if I don't talk to you, you'd be forever gone. So I regret not swallowing my cowardliness and carry out a decent conversation.